Nocturnal Refrain
by Balance546
Summary: The warmth of twilight before us, the light shining on my Angel's marble skin. His eyes singing the story of his hunger; burning at his very core and lusting to bend to the thirst. He craved for the taste of my lips; and I ached for his lips in return."
1. Nocturnal Refrain

**Hello, this is a Twilight Fanfiction. I'm not spoiling any information about the story or plot, but the begininng is kinda slow, sorry. The Twilight Saga DOES NOT BELONG TO ME! It ALL obviously BELONGS to STEPHENIE MEYER, except my own original characters. The song I thought that fitted well with this story is "Airplane", by "Imogen Heap", and I would appreciate it if you opened up, located the song, and listened to it as you read this part of the story. Thank you so much for reading and please leave reviews, comments, and leave me messages in my mailbox!**

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Here I was, in a place I never thought I would find myself. A good 30,000 feet in the air on an airplane striking into contorted clouds that lingered in the high altitude and allowing them to mesh together into a large blur as the plane flew through them, the bright rays from the rising sun shining into my tired eyes. I didn't have any direction or control in my life as it was, yet, here I was flying off to Italy. My mother thought it would help me further my dreams of becoming a musically inclined painter, but at the moment, it didn't feel like it was going to. I noticed how my mother always used to watch me at my isle back at home, in the dreary covers of my previous home and state, as I sat hours on the stool in front of the blank isle, chewing my bottom lip in anticipation of any small spark that would inspire me to paint. Ever since my seventeenth birthday a couple of months ago, my mother started to watch me as I painted, watch me as I struggled for inspiration and watch as my pencil hovered over a blank sketchbook as my light eyes gazed at its target in question. I had such trouble painting and even sketching lately, I couldn't understand what it was that made my small talent for imagination flutter from my grasp. I could only assume it was my age; creativity must drift off with the years.

I wasn't in love with my old home state, but I was attached; I did after all grow up there with my mother. When my mother told me she would be shipping me off for "my own good", I couldn't begin to wrap my mind around it. I knew that my mother and I weren't getting along lately due to the divorce papers she was getting finalized after the years of dust they collected, but not to the point that she would send me almost half way across the world to get rid of me. I wanted to fight and argue that I didn't want to go, that I wanted to stay tucked away in our nest of a home, but I took it with good stride. The "reason" she gave me was that my estranged grandmother had a place for me at her house and at the Arts Institute she started and was the head of. My mother swore to the highest of heavens that my grandmother's high school for the "musical nerd or artsy engineer" was one of the most well established and qualified school for anyone that wanted a future in the arts. I couldn't fight with my mother on that; it was practically impossible. I was already seventeen and had no idea of the future I desired or even a glimpse of what I wanted when I closed my eyes or heard the idle chatter of teachers in the classroom, I had a small idea of what I _should_ be doing and I took it.

I was wearing the clothing my mother brought me for my birthday- a gray tank-top, a canary yellow long sleeved hoodie that was un zippered, a pair of denim skinny jeans, and a pair of brightly colored flats that would make even a person with shades wince. It was a testament to my mother in a way, letting her know that I was going to carry her with me no matter how far I traveled off to. The sun was breaking through the swirling mist of the clouds, causing the scene before me to shimmer brilliantly. It was only then that I noticed that I was up all night during the plane ride shuffling aimlessly through my iPod, and gazing out of the window to inspect the land below me. It made me nervous to travel so high in the air; allowing paranoia to take hold of me and play out different outcomes to flying in a plane. It often made me wonder if Humans were even supposed to fly.

"Passengers, we would love to call to your attention that we're now going to land in Volterra, Italy," the stewardess spoke on the loud speaker, causing everyone to buckle their seatbelts before she advised them to do so. "Please buckle your seatbelts, and thank you for choosing us as your traveling companions." the stewardess smiled, but I silently braced my mind for impact for when I had to come face-to-face with my estranged grandmother.

"Cecile!" an eager and partially cracked voice called out to me, drawing my attention in the voice's direction. My eyes looked to a woman that wore a plain white t-shirt and loose neon pink caprice that waved her hand at me, even giving a small bounce upward with her body. I carried my suitcases and carry-on over in the direction of the lady, but slowed down as I got closer to her. I noticed the small wrinkles that pinched around her mouth, the crow's feet that indented the corners of her light green eyes, her boney blushing cheeks, the cropped silver hair that rustled in the air conditioning , and her wrinkled hands that stretched out in acceptance as she hugged me. This had to be my grandmother.

"Cecile! It's been much too long, honey. Come this way, let me get you're bags. You're much too small to be carrying such heavy things. What does that daughter of mine feed you? Nothing?" my grandmother criticized, but I felt my face tint a light pink. I knew I was small for my size, standing quite short compared to others, but I didn't weigh that little.

"First thing we do when we get home is feed you. You must be starving from the flight and with that pile of puke they try to feed you, I'm sure you didn't eat the whole ride." she smiled, wrinkles pinching her mouth as her pink lipstick cracked a bit with her smile.

I couldn't help but smile back at her as I helped her with my bags; it was after all my luggage. Just how much could a 72 year old lady carry? The ride in the tiny Beatle Volkswagen she drove was a bit uncomfortable due to the luggage that poked at my side and was spilling from the backseat.

"It's so nice to see you again, Cecile. I can't even remember the last time you were here, I dare not even push my mind back that far." my grandmother smiled, driving through the streets that were lined more with people walking than driving.

"Yea, it's nice to be back here. Mom and I must have came here when I was two or maybe four; I can't remember, but I do still remember this car." I joined in on the conversation, trying to warm up to my own grandmother.

I couldn't remember every detail of last coming to Volterra, mostly because I was too young to remember. I couldn't even remember why my grandmother chose to live half way across the world when she had the option of living back home with us. She chose to live in a place where there was no familiar faces. She chose to go far from us, and half way across the globe. Did she honestly dislike us that much?

I felt my finger push down on a button, causing the window to role down slowly. A fresh and curious new scent filled my nostrils. It was exotic and crisp, as the wind that accompanied it combed through my long dark hair, rustling it about in calm breezy. The scent was of just how the earth smelt after the rain, the way the woods smelt when it was surrounded by healthy trees, the same exact way a relaxing Spring afternoon tasted on my lips after a long day of looking at blank isles and partially calloused fingers.

"You know, you don't have to call me grandma if you don't want to. You can call me Maria if you want or Mama Maria." Maria proposed. "I know it must feel strange for you to call me grandma after all this time of not seeing me, so it's fine." she reassured me, but I shook my head as I smiled small at her. "You're my grandma, and that's what I _want_ to call you." I told her, not wanting to discuss the absence of time we could have shared in the past. I wasn't very fond of talking about past mistakes or problems, but I was interested in knowing of what she thought at the moment. I could only guess how odd it must be having me in front of her after all those years.

"Let's just forget about everything. I want to start off fresh again, and spend time with you. I want to know more about you, mom, and out family. It'll be fun." I stated, looking at the woman before me. I could tell that she was more than pleased by my answer as she brushed her hand over the top of my head and then pulled my head to the side for her to give a warm kiss on my forehead. It was tender and light.

"I'm looking forward to having time with you too, but I think you'll have more fun at the Institute and with the surprise I have waiting for you at home." Maria giggled at her inside secret, but my dark eyebrows knitted together in curiosity. I wouldn't say I wasn't fond of surprises, but there were certain ones that I always liked to steer clear of. Especially if it was moving or had the capability to destroy the memories I brought with me from my home state. I wanted to keep all of my possessions from my mother safe from harms way, and try to appease her by painting a few portraits along the way.

"Speaking of the Institute, are you really the head of the school? If so, you don't need to enroll me just because I'm your granddaughter. I feel as though I would be-" I tried to explain, but Maria cut me off with a wave of her hand.

"Shilly shally, nonsense! Don't be so stubborn, Cecilia. I swear you act just like your mother at times; stubborn till the end. Don't think just because you're part of the Francesca family that I'd cut you any slack. You're mother sent me a few of your drawings and I evaluated them personally." Maria revealed, stopping for a red light even though there were only three other cars on the road.

I couldn't help but feel a bit betrayed by my mother's sly behavior behind my back. My paintings and drawings were lacking for a long while, and there was no telling just which ones she sent off to Maria. Then again, when I went to tear through my pieces of work, the pile did feel a bit light. "W-What did you think?" I asked her, finding my teeth nibbling on my bottom lip. I had the nasty habit of gnawing on my bottom lip when I was nervous and fiddling with my fingers behind my back when I rarely lied, resulting in partially chapped bottom lip and nerves when it came to lying.

"You're art is distinct, it has your own style to it. But then again, the art she sent me was from three years ago from the date you wrote in the corner. I'm sure you're just as good, so I placed you in the slot for Advanced Placement Drawing and Painting. That class has only ten students in it, and I gave the last slot to you. I'm positive you'll do fine in the class, you're work can stand against the others. Though a few students killed to get into the class." Maria informed me, all the while as I could feel my stomach turn in discomfort.

I couldn't believe this was happening. My own grandmother shoved me into an Advanced Placement class, that thousands of students that were most likely more qualified than me, tried to get into. I felt my head strike with pain and my stomach throbbed silently with pain. I was placed in a class I wasn't ready or any where near to perfect for. How was I going to tell her that all the effort she did to put me into the advanced art class was wasted? That I no longer had the gift of art within me? Only the gift to be undecided and lost?

I couldn't bare talking the rest of the ride to the house, but my eyes were glued to the opened window of the car. I never would have expected that Volterra would be such a large town that completely differed from my previous home. The town was a living work of historical art paved in statuesque buildings and cathedrals. The buildings towered over the aged pavements that were flooded with townspeople gossiping and attending the local marketplace, or entering and leaving stores with friends and family. The streets clicked and clacked with the eager feet of children who skipped behind the steps of their guardians. Houses and apartment buildings were joined together as they stood tall next to each other, a wide Museum shadowed by marble angels that swayed in an eternal dance caught my sights as we drove by. Seagulls, pigeons, crows, and diverse birds swayed along the vast clear sky as the salty smell from the ocean that surrounded the city drifted in my nostrils, causing me to notice the Etruscan walls that circled around the city in defense. Then, a holy sight striked me more than the rest. It's essence resounding more louder than a crack of thunder through the night. It was an enlarged cathedral that stood tall and proud, with gargoyles and angels joining forces to watch over the blessed ground. The cathedral was covered in centuries old paintings, sculpted with a feeling that reminded me of Rome, and it was surrounded by other small chapels. My large intrigued eyes held tight to the cathedral as it passed by my sights, as I even turned around in my seat still gazing at it even though it was becoming further and further away.

"This is our home, I hope you like it." Maria introduced me to the house, opening the front door for us. The house wasn't too big, and not too small. It was a perfect average sized house that was quite clean, and even as I went into the kitchen I noticed it was still clean; which surprised me. Usually, my kitchen back home had crumbs over the counter, newspapers scattered over the table, and a few pots and pans out of place. I exited the kitchen with my bags and followed closely behind Maria as she lead me to my bedroom which was all the way on the other end of the house. I was about to open the door until Maria stopped me.

"Wait! Close your eyes! I don't want your surprise ruined." Maria hurried to my side, clamping her hands over my eyes, and causing me to drop my bags. I didn't remember any surprises until she mentioned it to me again, it must have been the overwhelming news of my Institute position and the Romanesque building that made me forget entirely.

"Okay, walk in slowly and no peeking, Cecilia!" Maria warned, but I complied. There was no need to ruin a happy moment like this, a moment that made her happy. I wanted this day and maybe these years we were going to spend with each other to be happy and meaningful. Without any interruptions from school or home.

"Open your eyes!" Maria cheered, but I opened them slowly cautiously. I waited for some sort of impact, it never came. I stepped forward; nothing squishy or moving on the floor. I held my hand outward; nothing hitting or in front of me. I opened my bright eyes fully, but wished I didn't instantly.

There it was before me once again, a constant reminder of my failure and loss. My lack of ability standing right before me with light shining upon its clean slate. It was a recently bought isle with a blank portrait that stood silently and waited for work to be created upon it. I felt my stomach turn again, and I felt like darting into the bathroom we passed on the way to the room so I could lock myself away in it.

"Cecilia, are you okay? Do you like it?" Maria asked, but I lied and nodded. I didn't want her to know that I lost my talent; the talent that once moved me.

I smiled the best I could, trying my best to shield my shame, all the while fiddling my fingers behind my back. "I love it! I can't wait to start using it." I told her, as she brought my bags in. I took up the rest of my bags, and told her I could settle in myself. Luckily, Maria bought it and left me to myself.

Before I started to unpack or even think of it, I took the isle, folded it, covered it with it's sheet, and put it in the closet. I couldn't bare to look at it, and I tried to mentally remind myself that no object should be put in that closet unless I wanted immediate shame and aggravation.

I finally looked at my new room, it was beautiful and cozy with an odd combo of colors that blended perfectly with each other. The walls were painted a light green, as the ceiling was white. There was a black and white rug on the floor that was placed next to the black and white couch, and two wooden night stands in the room. A perfect sized bed that was also color coated black and white, with a framed "C" over the bed. There were a few other random framed photos that were spread throughout the room, as I assumed that Maria had a hard time trying to understand what a seventeen year old girl usually had in their rooms. Two lamps were situated in the room, which provided a good amount of light in the room. Even though the room was gorgeous, it made me wonder just how much money went into it, making me feel partially guilty.

It took me hours to put away my clothes and get settled into my new arrangements, but Maria did peek her head in every once in awhile to offer snacks and drinks. I refused on both occasions as the sole objective on my mind was to get settled, but Maria's company made putting away my clothes and unused sketchbook bearable. It was well into night by the time I finished, but I found myself traveling into the bathroom that Maria and I shared with each other. The bathroom was riddled with make-up and beauty products, which made me laugh inwardly.

Even though Maria was well into her seventy's, she still prized herself which was good. If I ever grew old, I would completely stop taking care of myself and just let old age take it's course. I set a few of my products in the bathroom, but kept my small amount of make-up in my room, fearing that Maria's would definitely conquer over my pitiful amount of make-up. A figure caught my eyes in the mirror, as I gazed back at it.

The figure was me; Cecilia Francesca. Traces of my former home was present in my appearance as my complexion was pale due to the constant clouds that hung over my previous home, but my complexion blended well with my nearly invisible spread of freckles that sprinkled over my face. My eyes were like my mother's, large and expressive pale green eyes, that reflected my expressions perfectly. At the moment though, my expression was uncertainty. My hair contrasted with my complexion as it was a long straight dark brown that reached to the middle of my bust, but my hair is a bit wavy. My bangs sweep over my forehead, but not over my eyebrows. My face was heart shaped, lips quite full, but due to my biting, my bottom lip was a bit bigger than my top lip. I enjoyed wearing make-up, as I was prone to wearing smudged black eyeliner and a poppy orange lip gloss, but I also enjoyed my natural looks. The nose I have is like a button and was always the first thing that turned cold during the winter back home. My height though was very small for my age, five feet. It had to be due to my mother's size and my father's. I knew I wasn't pretty or attractive, but I lived with it. There was no use making a big deal out of little things like my looks, even if I didn't like them.

This is who I am; Cecilia Francesca.

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**Well, that's the first chapter! Leave comments, meassages, and reviews! You can find the picture of the main character on the site "". I envisioned Cecilia to look exactly like Emily Browning from the movie, "The Uninvited", so check out the photo section on the website for that movie! Thank you! ^-^**


	2. The Cathedral of Santa Maria Assunta

**Hey, I updated once again! I DON'T OWN ANY PART OF THE TWILIGHT SAGA, EXCEPT MY OWN CHARACTERS! The song that I thought fitted with this chapter was "C'etait ici", by "Yann Tiersen". I think Yann Tiersen is the perfect sort of music for this fanfiction series! Remember, comment, review, and message me! Thank you!**

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I could barely sleep last night, my nerves were getting to me. I lost count of all the times I wandered out of bed, and got lost in the unfamiliar hallways. It was only then that I started to feel the affects of homesickness and the bare touch of loneliness, as I started to dread the next day. The next day was the beginning of high school all over again.

My alarm clock squeaked feebly, but I slammed my hand on it before it could increase in its noisy splendor. I was up all night and barely got a wink of sleep, but luckily I was running on pure adrenaline at the moment. I wasted no time in getting dressed in a pair of denim skinny jeans, regular converse, a plain black tank top, and a stripped black and gray hoodie that fitted my form nicely. I traveled into the bathroom after a few moments of looking for it and dove right into my daily routine, but I put on a poppy orange lipstick and a messy eyeliner. When I was done, I went downstairs, but was surprised when I noticed a familiar figure there before me.

"Cecile, good-mourning. Want some breakfast?" Maria welcomed me, spreading a groups worth of breakfast assortments. "It's nice and hot." she reassured me.

I usually skipped on breakfast since the small second grade experience I encountered after eating in the mourning; it involved puke and a very unhappy classmate. "Um, I'll have some toast." I sat down in defeat, not wanting to be rude or have her food go to waste.

Maria and I sat in silence, her reading the newspaper and I eating my buttery toast and fiddling with the tips of my wavy hair. My light green eyes traveled over the kitchen, but took interest in the newspaper that covered Maria's whole face from sight. It read, "GROUP OF TOURISTS MISSING! TWO MANGELED BODIES FOUND!", in large dramatic words. If my nerves weren't already on edge as they were, they jumped a bit more.

A group of people disappearing sounded odd, especially since they were all tourists, but I pushed it all aside. I felt my mind flipping through the images of yesterdays sights, the ancient Romanesque building and cathedrals. But, an image of a certain building made me jump in recognition.

"Hey, grandma? Do you know what that large cathedral is called with the angel and gargoyle statues and the small chapels next to it?" I asked, starting a conversation.

"Cecile, if you ever want to find your way around the town, you're going to have to be a bit more specific, but I do know what you're talking about. It's called the "Cathedral of Santa Maria Assunta", but around here we call it "Santa Maria Cathedral". Why, do you find it interesting?" Maria asked.

"Yes, it's really…gorgeous." I categorized its beauty, but I felt awkward when I listed what it looked like. When I looked at the cathedral there was no real way to describe it or any actual way to put its essence in form.

"Well, if you're that interested. There's tours that go through the museum everyday and give discounts for tourists, but I'll think they'll give you one since you don't even know how to speak Italian." Maria laughed heartily, much to my own embarrassment.

To be honest, I didn't even know a little bit of Italian. Ever since I arrived in Volterra, people came up to me and appeared to be asking me questions, but I couldn't reply properly. Some of the signs in the town were even written in Italian. I got a strong feeling that I was definitely going to be lost in translation here.

"Yea, my Italian is horrible. I can't even say "please" or "thank you", it's really bad. But, are they really giving out tours? That would be great for us to go on." I supposed, holding my breath for her reply. Maria's bright eyes looked enthusiastic for a moment, but looked down in guilt.

"Sorry, Cecilia. I have to go to work, but you can go off on your own. I promise, this town is safe enough for a young woman like yourself to be walking around." Maria smiled weakly, but my smile lowered.

"I'm sure that's not what the missing groups of tourists said."

"I'm sure that they just misjudged a direction or something. Even though this is a town, it's easy to get lost around here. They probably are lost or confused somewhere in the forest."

"Forest? How can there be a forest if there's a wall around the town, and on the other side there's only water?"

"Simple, the Etruscans valued nature. They didn't want to completely destroy it for the sake of their people's protection. If they did, then they'll be petrified that a God would destroy their crops and wealth." Maria informed me, leaving the table to dump her coffee.

This town, this Volterra, it was so fascinating. When I thought that it was nothing more but a town, it proved me wrong. Maria told me more about the forest that was located on the far east side of the town as she drove me to the Arts Institute, all the way on the other side of the town, and of the myths that resided there. One of my favorite myths that Maria told me was quite romantic, yet ominous. Maria said, "That if you travel into the woods during twilight, where the sun meets the rising night half way, you'd be likely to see the angel's wings sparkle once they hit the horizon. If you see the miracle, then you'd become wealthy in life, with all of the gifts that a person could ask for. But, if the angel's wings kiss your lips, then you'd become increasingly unlucky in life. It's an ancient sin that dates back for centuries, that a mortal should never kiss an angel.", but she told me it was all just a "silly myth".

"Are you sure you don't want me to take you to the guidance office? It'll spare you some time before you have to go to class." Maria supposed, but I shook my head. It was better to get everything over with now than later.

"No, it's fine. I'll be okay." I spoke more to myself than Maria, exiting the car.

I watched as Maria drove off to her spot in the teacher's lot, but felt my stomach become uneasy as I went into the large building. I noticed that everyone was together, whether it be in a group or pair. No one was ever by themselves; except me. I stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone in the building had sun kissed skin, the boys looked strong and handsome, while the girls were tall, had long curly black hair, and looked like runway models. Compared to them, I looked alien.

"Ciao, stai Cecilia?" a thick Italian accent hummed into my ear range, causing me to turn around.

When I turned, I was greeted by a young woman who had to be the same age as me, she had short light brown hair, much taller than me, a bit lanky with a perfectly round face, and welcoming brown eyes. She also had a stud piercing in her nose.

"W-What? I'm sorry, I don't know how to speak…Italian. Sorry." I apologized, but the girl laughed.

"That's a relief, I thought I would have to whip out my dictionary to speak to you all day. I'm Rebecca Sheerson, and you must be Cecilia Francesca." Rebecca smiled wide at me, her smile was clear and pearly white. As her pony tailed hair flowed in the spring air that seeped through the opened windows.

"Yea, um? How'd you know my name?" I asked, looking at her quizzical. Rebecca didn't bother to answer me right away as she took hold of my wrist and dragged me off in the opposite direction I was headed. I pulled my wrist, but obviously not hard enough for Rebecca to let go. I was completely weak and lacked any strength, it was probably due to my lack of working out or physical activity.

"Hey! Where are you taking me!?" I raised my voice, but Rebecca stopped short.

"I'm taking you to class, you have it with me. It's Advanced Placement Art, right? My mom did put you in basically every class that I have." Rebecca informed me, letting go of my wrist. Leaving it to be my turn to follow her.

"And who exactly is your mom?" I questioned, as we both entered an almost empty classroom.

The classroom smelt of fresh and diluted paint, pencil shavings from discarded and broken pencils, and the fresh air of spring that waltzed through the large opened window. The classroom was wide and modeled after an art studio, but it was filled with blank isles and newly acquired paints. It was my nightmare come alive.

"Oh, sorry. I've been dragging you around this whole time and I haven't been telling you anything important, besides my name of course! My mother is the vice chairman of this Institute, my mom and your grandmother are best friends. I mean, they should be. She only hangs out with your grandmother every waking moment." Rebecca explained, taking her place at an isle located in the back of the room, me joining her.

Rebecca looked as though she was a professional artist, with her briefcase filled with different chalks, pastels, paint tubes, erasers, and pencils. All I had was a pencil and an empty imagination to work with. Rebecca must have caught my stare as she smiled kindly at me.

"Don't worry, since you're new Mrs. Frankle will let you get used to everything for a week or so, but a word of advice. Stay on your toes, you know how art teachers are. You never know when she's gonna hit you with something." Rebecca told me, but I was confused with deciding if she was going to hit me with an object or assignment.

"So? How long are you staying here for?" she asked, but I shrugged trying to not struggle with sitting in front of the oversized isle.

"I really don't know, honestly. So far though, a year or so. Or until my mother gets sick of living alone." I told her, words sounding a bit spiked with a bitter taste.

"Glad to see you have emotional issues too." Rebecca joked, with a gentle elbow to my side.

"Lutto il mio tulipani po 'di bene! Cominciamo la nostra giornata con l'arte, come sempre! Good mourning my little tulips! Let us begin our day with art as usual!" an all too chipper voice sang, literally.

A woman walked into the classroom with a mess of paper in her arms, hair in a messy afro with large spectacles that appeared too thick to be believable, moccasins, a tie-dye dress that flowed easily in the breeze, and a multicolored headband. She looked…wild.

"Ah, Rebecca. Introduce us to our new visitor to our humble town and Institute." the person I could only assume to be Mrs. Frankle, looked to the back at Rebecca and I.

"Yes, this is Cecilia Francesca. She's new here and will be joining us for the year or so, I can only guess that's she's a talented artist to be here. Um? Sì, questo è Cecilia Francesca. Lei è nuovo e si unirà a noi per l'anno o giù di lì, posso solo immaginare che lei è un artista di talento di essere qui. Anything you wanna add, Cecilia?" Rebecca asked, but I tensed on my stool as I noticed the countless eyes on me.

"N-No, nothing." I hated to talk about myself as it was, but it was instantly worse when I had to talk about myself to a group of my peers. I didn't know what it was, but I didn't enjoy being around people my age or even talking to them.

"Good, welcome to our little corner of the world, Cecilia. Since you're new, I'll give you a few days to get used to your new environment. But, this note isn't just for you, but the rest of the class. We have a scenery portrait due in two weeks or so, I haven't decided. It can be a sketch or painting of any sight that provokes you in anyway, but it must be done on isle paper. Okay? Keep in mind it will be due quite soon." Mrs. Frankle devastated me further, but I only swallowed the accumulated saliva that formed in my throat.

I had no way of surviving this class, so I sat silently and didn't speak the whole time. I kept quiet, except for the few times Rebecca talked to me and I was asked a question about my previous home. I didn't know how I was going to make the grade on my first assignment, the trouble I was dealing with wasn't going to budge not unless something or someone, as much as I doubted it, would move it personally. I need something to inspire me, something to wake me up. It was only then as I fiddled about in the back of the class with my lone pencil, that I thought of it. I knew it was a far cry from something to get me to paint or even draw again like I used to, but it could work.

By fifth period, my head was wound tightly around the idea in my head that I could barely listen to Rebecca, but I still tried. "I can't believe we're in every class together. When my mom said we would be, I didn't think she was serious." Rebecca eyed my class schedule, as she walked with me to my next class. Advanced Instrumental Music.

I had no idea why I was placed in this class particularly, I enjoyed playing my violin secretly. It was my hidden pleasure that tuned out my troubles and blocked the world from my thoughts and feelings. It was there for me whenever I had trouble with painting, and I spent hours playing on it which was evident by my calloused fingers. Playing the violin was my joy and I valued it more than painting. I just couldn't figure out for the life of me why I had such a problem letting go of art and grasping music within my hands.

Rebecca and I sat next to each other in that class also, but I was thankfully spared having to introduce myself to the whole class. By the time lunch came around, I finally got a grasp on the Italian language a bit, as I figured that my teachers were only repeating their words in Italian after speaking it in English.

Walking into the cafeteria was harder than I expected it to originally be, but when I did, everyone's eyes were on me. Girls whispered among themselves, while guys completely stared blankly or stared with a small smirk. Luckily, Rebecca was there to save me from walking aimlessly and dragged me over to a table for us to sit. I didn't talk much as Rebecca talked about the school, people, teachers, and food. But I decided to talk again once I finally got used to her.

"Rebecca? Do you like Cathedrals? I've been thinking about taking a tour over to the Cathedral of Santa Maria, but I'm kinda hesitant to go by myself, but I don't want to make it seem like you're my last resort if-" I started to rant on, but Rebecca stopped me with a point of her fork.

"Cathedral of Santa Maria Assunta? I love that place, I went there a thousand times already though." Rebecca stated, but I felt my hopes dwindle. It could be because of the small face I made and made sure to cover afterwards, or a genuine change of mind, but Rebecca laughed. "If you're gonna make a face like that, then I can't say no. How about we take the eight o'clock tour?" Rebecca suggested, but I nodded in excitement.

Perhaps coming to school wasn't such a bad idea all in itself. I learned a bit of Italian, played the violin, and gained a new friend. The only problem on my chopping block was how I was going to pull an art assignment out of thin air. At the moment, I was honestly contemplating to follow after Maria's forest myth and chase after angel feathers.

When Rebecca showed up on my doorstep, Maria couldn't be anymore excited. I could guess it was because I made a friend so quickly or because I actually found one. Maria already knew that I was horrible with conversation when it came to people my age, but she was more than happy for me that I had someone to talk to and share the "woes of adolescence" with. Rebecca and I walked the whole way to the Cathedral, and luckily it wasn't too far for us. Rebecca talked the majority of the time and made me laugh constantly, it was easy for me to start to talk with her now and I couldn't be anymore at ease with that.

Arriving at the Cathedral of Santa Maria Assunta shook my body with tremors of excitement as my bright green eyes watched as tourists filed into the enormous center of worship and architecture. The pitch black night sky made the angel statues more riveting and majestic than usual, as the cathedral lights shined on them. The gargoyles that were mounted on the church were menacing and enthralled me as I walked passed them. The Cathedral was larger than I expected it to be and I found myself gawking at it.

"You must really like this place, huh?" Rebecca poked, passing me a tour guide pamphlet. I nodded.

"It's just so beautiful. It's like history frozen in time, but it only begins to look more enchanting with age. Nothing like how humans get with age." I spoke barely above a whisper, but Rebecca stared at me with a blank expression.

"Enchanting? Did you just say enchanting?"

"Uh, yea. Did I say something wrong?"

Rebecca didn't bother to let me in on her inside joke as she broke out in a fit of laughter, causing a few eyes to turn in our direction. I felt my face gain heat as I was openly blushing, but I hid it with the palm of my hand.

"You really are odd, but in a good way. A funny way." Rebecca reassured me, patting my back.

I went along with it as I followed behind Rebecca, as we both joined the group. The whole time, I couldn't stop staring intently at the antiquity before my eyes. We passed by works of art contributed respectfully by Niccolo Circignani, Andrea della Robbia, Benozzo Gozzoli, and Mino da Fiesole. The cathedral smelt of fresh dirt and polished marble. The Assunta Cathedral soothed my senses and calmed my nerves, it was a small getaway for me. I felt relief for the first time in a long while.

The tourist group and Rebecca started to move on without me, as my eyes were still analyzing the painting of Bernardine of Siena. It consisted of a painting including Christ with his hands stretched out; bleeding. His expression was calm, yet hurt. His eyes were hardened in resolve as he appeared to be sending a message to the overseers of the painting. The arches in the church echoed with the laughter of children and the chatter of people, as I started to walk on away from the group. It felt as though something was calling me away from them, but as soon as I turned a corner, I lost my sense of direction. I was lost.

I didn't become scared, but I did try to mind my settings. I traveled down vast corridors aligned with statues, then down a hall filled with chariots and ancient technologies, but then I ended back down a corridor laced with paintings.

"Okay, I'm lost." I admitted to no one in particular, scratching my head in confusion.

My eyes wandered over the paintings, but stopped once they caught something quite different. It was a young man that was admiring a single portrait. He stood tall with his fingers laced behind his back, his head tilted back partially. I admired his long dark brown hair that was messy in a perfect fashion, his hands were pale as they matched his complexion perfectly, his clothes held remnants of a different time. He appeared to be adleastly my age or maybe a year older.

I tried to move without drawing attention from the exotic creature before me, but as soon as I moved, he moved. When he turned to face me, my breath escaped my throat. He was ethereal in his beauty; unlike anything or person I ever saw. His face was that of an angel, as his looks were able to beat out that of the Greek God Apollo. His lips were full, but they weren't too full. His eyes had purple-like bruises underneath that only added to the effects of his enigmatic beauty. His hair swept across his face and drew attention to his eyes, but once I gazed at them, my lips parted in shock. His eyes…they were…the color of blood. A crimson red.

Once his crimson eyes met my light green eyes, he glared harshly at me. His rage vibrated through his eyes, as his upper lip curled upward in disgust at my appearance. I could have sworn I heard him even growl in defense at me. The stunning young man jerked violently forward, but suddenly stopped himself with a strong clamp of his hand over his mouth. His eyes were stabbing repeatedly into me, pushing me back from the angelic man. I clenched my heart to stop it from pounding, but it refused to listen.

The pitter patter of shoes came into my earshot, and knocked me out of my admiration. The sounds caused the pale young man to also grip tighter on his mouth and nose. I turned instantly over to see the creator of the noise, but I was surprised to see who it was.

"Cecilia! Ever heard of staying with the group?! I was worried about you!" Rebecca kindly cursed me, but I whipped my head back around in the direction of the beautiful god before me.

He was gone.

Gone as if he never existed in the first place.

As if he was only a figment of my imagination.

That was when I felt the sudden urge to paint again.


End file.
